


an ounce of peace is all i want

by ISlayedBuffy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drug Abuse, F/F, Smoking, canon?? i don't know her, it's basically what i wanted it to be, realism?? no don't know her, this is fanfiction after all, trying to stay as canon as possible, without it being a be all end all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 23:51:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10502055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ISlayedBuffy/pseuds/ISlayedBuffy
Summary: "‘Hi, my name is Fareeha and I haven’t been sober more than a few hours the past two weeks because that’s just what my life has become’? No. Whatever she told the group it sure as hell wouldn’t be the truth".25-year-old Fareeha Amari's life isn't what she thought it would be. Like she didn't think she would basically become a drug addict, or run into Angela Ziegler at meeting for soldiers while as high as she had been the rest of the days. Yeah, no, whatever she thought her life would be, this wasn't it.





	1. there's no view from here

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't necessarily explicit pharmercy, however, fareeha is gay and still has a crush on angela and yeah, i'm saying it's pharmercy so. don't steal angela ziegler for your hetero gency agenda.
> 
> edit: due to popular demand (one person who convinced me with just one comment i am that weak) i'm turning this into four chapters so hope you will like those too when i eventually write and publish them

She looked down at her hands that she lifted slightly to see how badly they were shaking. She was used to the shaking, it was a permanent part of her, it was just a different shaking this time. This was nervous and regretful and a shaking that told tales of ‘Fareeha just breathe and it’s going to be fine we’ll be fine we can do this’. It was so very different from the shaking when she hadn’t smoked in a while, different from not having had her coffee, or different from when she woke up freezing in the middle of the night because of her nightmares and different from when she had gotten out of bed because trying to fall asleep again would be futile and she waited for the shady drugs she procured from her neighbours sketchy brother to kick in, and especially different from the shaking when she hadn’t taken them in too long of a while. It was very, very, different. She wasn’t sure which was the better. 

She was the last one to sit down in the circle of chairs. Some of the soldiers there she recognized from the few past times she had decided to come to the meeting. She figured they were regulars from how well they seemed to look. Healthy. Others she studied for the shortest time so they wouldn’t notice that she was staring at them, seeming as nervous as she and didn’t seem to be able sit still or focus anything. A grain of her wanted to believe she wasn’t the only one of those unfocused, jittery people, who wasn’t unfocused and jittery only because of being nervous. She didn’t wish it upon any of them to be caught up in something they knew would eventually become yet another thing to disappoint the ones they loved, she just wished someone would notice that she wasn’t sober, notice that she wasn’t entirely sure when they last time this week she had been sober or sober enough for it to count as not just a period between waking up and swallowing down a sometimes risky amount of pills. 

Fareeha didn’t realize that the lack of talking wasn’t due to an especially unwilling group this evening. Their chairperson wasn’t there and had seemingly not arrived at all. After a while the small talk died down and everyone sat quietly waiting for someone to be the first to leave or ask if anyone knows where they were. Before it happened one last person sat down that Fareeha had not noticed was there. She wasn’t…  _ a lot  _ older than she remember her, but she was definitely older. She remembered her as fifteen years old with the childlike features still there, she remembered her as eighteen years old with the war and death written all over her tired face in the evening when she would have to babysit a thirteen year old Fareeha. She remembered her as twenty years old and twenty-five years old, trying to just live on hope that some day things would be fine. She remembered Angela as so many things that she had a hard time to comprehend an obviously older Angela. She couldn’t remember when her birthday was but she could remember the five years that differentiated them. She had hated those five years so incredibly much throughout her youth. She had a vague memory of celebrating her birthday outside even though it was cold enough to have to wear a jacket, so she figured Angela was still twenty-nine, going on thirty any day, any week, any month. She wanted to look away but she couldn’t bring herself to drag her eyes of someone she had felt so much for once and now didn’t know at all. All she knew that was that in all of these years, she was still just as beautiful, she was still as angelic as her name suggested. 

“Hello. My name is Angela Ziegler. Michael, who you’re used to if you’ve been here before, could not make it today, so he asked me to fill in for him. Since this is a group for veterans, I was told to explain that I was an Overwatch agent and a field medic until it was disbanded.” Angela spoke softly, with a smile on her lips. Fareeha wasn’t sure if she could hear Angela try hard to not let her accent slip through or if the years had taken it from her. From what she had heard though Angela had moved back to Switzerland, and if that was true it was probably the former. She could see Angela talk even though she couldn’t make out a single word that came out of her mouth, her own hanging open and waiting for Angela to look at her, to actually  _ see _ her, recognize her. Angela had started to let the word go around the room and she seemed to put all her focus on whoever was talking. People were talking a lot less than Fareeha was used to. She supposed it was the unfamiliarity of not having Michael there. He did have his way with words. Like he knew exactly how to choose them to make people feel comfortable and valid and… grounded. Fareeha barely even knew what any of those things felt like anymore. 

When it was Alexandra’s, the girl sitting on Fareeha’s left side, turn Angela noticed her. She caught her eyes and she could see the shift from being just another stranger to being Fareeha Amari, the kid she used to teach stupid medical terms and play games with during the evening she was off and Ana wasn’t. She looked back to Alex quickly when it was obvious she realized. Fareeha didn’t know how to do this. She didn’t come here for casual conversation. She came here to feel like she existed, like it wasn’t all just a large cosmic joke and her existence wasn’t a hoax done on herself. She came here so she remembered all the things she had to gain when she got better, she was determined to become better.

She shifted in her seat when it was her turn to talk. What was she suppose to say? ‘Hi, my name is Fareeha and I haven’t been sober more than a few hours the past two weeks because that’s just what my life has become’? No. Whatever she told the group it sure as hell wouldn’t be the truth. 

“I uh— my name is Fareeha.” she begun, having to think fast, come up with something quickly. She sat up a little more straight, “Uh— the past few weeks have been… hard. I don’t— I don’t really feel like talking today actually.” She looked at Angela who just nodded, giving her the same soft smile she had been giving the rest of the group. Fareeha stared at her hands for the rest of time before they had a little break of drinking lemonade and eating cookies someone had brought with them. 

“Happy belated birthday, Fareeha.” Angela greeted, suddenly standing beside her. She wasn’t jumpy but she was taken off guard and met Angela with different sounds in an attempt to make words. Angela was looking down at her as if they hadn’t lost contact. As if all the things they had happened hadn’t. She admired her acting, doubting Angela was unfazed by the situation. 

“Th— thank you. Or… what?” Fareeha frowned. 

“It was your birthday last month, yes?” Angela asked. Fareeha nodded without saying anything. Angela stood still a few more seconds but seemed to just decide to move on when Fareeha continued to stare at her dirty, beat up, shoes and not letting words leave her mouth. No greeting, no nothing. 

The last hour seemed to fly by. Fareeha wasn’t sure if it was because of the pills, if it was because she wasn’t paying attention, or if it was just that an hour wasn’t that much time considering the situation she was in. 

They all said their goodbyes, people leaving at their own time without being too slow since they knew Angela had to lock up the place eventually. She made conversation too though so Fareeha figured she wasn’t in such a hurry. Fareeha decided to get another glass of lemonade, taking the last of it, before leaving the room and stepping outside where she was greeted by the smell of wet asphalt. She sighed as she stepped to the left of the entrance. She hoped that if she waited a little while maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t have to step out into it and get herself soaked. 

She picked up the pack of cigarettes from her pocket, took a cigarette from the pack and put it to her lips and put the pack back into her pocket before grabbing her lighter in the other pocket in her pants and  lit it, taking a long drag as she closed her eyes as she listened to the rain. 

“You know, it wasn’t until quite some time after cigarettes got popular that they realized they were deadly.” she heard the familiar german accent tell her. She opened her eyes and straightened her back when she looked to the shorter, blonde, woman on her right. She raised her eyebrow as she looked down at the cigarette back up at Angela. 

“Don’t you think they would have figured it out if these were bad too?” Fareeha asked. Angela smiled and took a few steps closer. 

“Perhaps. I suppose you don’t care very much, do you? At least you’re not smoking the real deal.” Fareeha wondered if it was Angela’s way of trying to give her an in to open up, thinking maybe one on one was a better idea for her, maybe she would talk if there weren’t anyone else there. Even as Fareeha thought about it it felt… far-fetched. Sure, Angela had been a good friend but it felt far-fetched that she would try to make contact and try to get her to open up by talking about cigarettes. Fareeha answered by taking another drag from the cigarette. 

“Fareeha, I—I knew you would follow in Ana’s footsteps regardless of what she thinks about it but I—” Angela sighed, shrugging, “I suppose I could never have imagined that you would… end up like this.”  They stared at each other. Fareeha didn’t know how to answer that. It was blunt and honest. No one would want to imagine this for anyone else. She was glad Angela didn’t even know any of what was going on besides the cigarettes that she were right about not being the real deal, she hadn’t even begun to explore the first layer, the tip of the iceberg. Fareeha knew that she would find out if she let her. Part of her wanted to a small child again and let anything Angela said be the be all end all, let it the words be as much comfort as her own mother’s warmth and protective hugs. She took another drag. 

“I may not have been the best of friends to you when you’ve need it. I know I got caught up in my own things when you could have needed a friend the most. I understand if you hold any sort of grudge because of that. I just wish… I wish that maybe, someday, you’re willing to talk to me about what is going on, Fareeha. Not as a doctor, as a friend.”

_ Not as a doctor, as a friend _ . It echoed in Fareeha’s mind. She would have memories from her childhood intrued when she least wanted it, when she least wanted to react on them. She remembered wanting to be so much more than friends with Angela when she first realized that she liked girls more than other girls did. Of course, while a much smaller Fareeha didn’t fully understand why, she did understand that it was not… appropriate to have said anything, though at the time she would have probably chosen her words differently. Like, weird or embarrassing. And sure, Angela was only five years older than Fareeha. There were many times over the years they shared as friends that she had thought that maybe, just maybe, her own age wouldn’t be a problem. In hindsight it was still slightly embarrassing, sure, thought mostly amusing thinking about how things have changed. It would’ve been a huge problem, and she knew that now. Another drag. 

They stared at each other for another few seconds before Angela picked up her holovid from her pocket. Fareeha stared out at the parking lot wondering if she should just walk home in the rain so she knew that she could feel anything at all anymore. She felt so incredibly numb. Her own holovid made a sound and she met Angela’s eyes when she picked it up from her pocket. 

“Those are all the ways to get in touch with me.” Angela’s smile still there, still soft, still… genuine. “I wish that I could say any day, any time, but that would be an outright lie that I know you wouldn’t believe. I’ll try to make myself as available for you as I possibly can.” Fareeha nodded, offering a weak smile back, surprising herself at how genuine it felt. 

They stood quiet without saying anything while Fareeha finished smoking. Just as she threw it to the ground, out to the rainy parking lot, Angela started to walk inside again. Fareeha watched her leave, quickly trying to decide if she should say anything. 

“Angela.” she called out. Angela stopped and turned her head to look at Fareeha. There were so many things she could say, so many things she wanted to say, so many things she should’ve and shouldn’t have said. “Thank you.” Angela nodded before she started walking again. 

Fareeha looked out at the parking lot again and walked to her car. She sat in the driver's seat thinking for another minute, trying to dry her dripping hair with one of her old sweatshirts left in the backseat. There was no need to leave the car and walk home in the cold rain. She could feel. Fuck, she could feel so much.   
  



	2. and i wish i was special.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight months later things aren't any less complicated, actually they're kind of even more complicated because everything is the same only now Fareeha is in love and pining.

She stared at the ceiling from where she was laying. On the cold floor.  _ Beside _ the couch. She wasn’t exactly sure how she had ended up there, she had no memory of blacking out. She let the thought run through her head a couple of times, closing her eyes as she sighed, realizing how fried her brain probably was. The whole thing with blacking out was that you didn’t remember anything. She wouldn’t know unless she actually dug at those specific memories she just didn’t have. It bothered her that it didn’t scare her that she had started to lose more and more time. A few months ago it had been maybe once or twice up to two months or so ago, and she didn’t think she had lost very much time when it happened. She sat up and looked at the time on her holovid. She had lost at least three hours. Three.  _ Hours _ . What had she even done for three hours on the floor? She huffed as the first thing that crossed her mind was Angela. She didn’t put it past herself to have been completely lost in her head by just the mere thought of Angela. It was pathetic. 

She frowned as she rubbed her face when a couple of light knocks could be heard through the hallway and into the small living room. She would’ve been able to hear those knocks anywhere in the apartment. It wasn’t big and anything even close to a sharp noise she wasn’t prepared for could cause her to jump. She got up from the floor with ease and walked over to the front door. She opened the door slightly, peeking out before opening it fully. Angela’s smile was… well, contagious? Perfect? The more seconds passed with just the simple hello’s between them and Fareeha stepping away so Angela could come inside, the more painful Fareeha’s chest felt. Not painful in the way that she thought she was about to die because this time, Fareeha, this time you really did fuck up with the pills. No, it was painful in the ’fuck, you’re so beautiful  and I think I might die on the spot if this tension doesn’t go away soon, it doesn’t matter who kisses who, you’re going to taste the liquor on my lips anyway and maybe I’ll have to explain that I mixed it with shady pills and then it’s all going to be over and it hurts that I love you and I won’t get to tell you how much before you go away’ way. 

“Am I early?” Angela asked, her smile still unfaltered. Fareeha shook her head. No. Angela was almost actually late. Fareeha was just… caught off-guard if anything. It wasn’t hard to be caught off-guard if you lose three hours. Especially if those hours are three hours of waiting for who she in the back of her mind wished so badly she would let herself call the love of her life. She already knew it. Eight months had passed since the first time the had met again and she just… she didn’t know anything more factual than that. She just, she couldn’t let herself think too much about that. It would hurt too much to acknowledge that for real while simultaneously  acknowledging that Angela would never,  _ never _ , put up with her if she knew all of the things Fareeha hadn’t told her about her present self. 

“I was… I was napping. It scared me a little when you knocked. I suppose that’s what you’re seeing.” Fareeha explained. Angela laughed, looking down at the ground and then back up at Fareeha, straight into her eyes. The bluest blue, cold and sharp, meeting the warm brown. 

“Who would’ve thought that a tall, stoic, Amari would be scared by a little knocking when it disturbs her napping?” Angela joked. Fareeha understood that it was joke. A joke that punched her right in another piece of her heart that hurt for a very different reason. She wasn’t stoic. Tall, objectively so. But stoic? No. At the end of the day she doubted she was even worth to be part of the Amari legacy. If her mother knew even half of the things that were happening to her daughter, Fareeha didn’t even want to know half of the thing that were to happen to her. 

“We all have our secrets.” Fareeha answered, letting out a laugh mostly because of the stupid irony the sentence held. The irony that she wasn’t lying through her teeth the way she had the past months with Angela sometimes. That it was all the other way around this time. She was telling as much of the truth as she felt she could without actually giving anything of value away. As much of the truth that she had to answer at all. They were quiet while Angela took of her jacket and hung it up on one of the hangers. 

“Coffee?” Fareeha asked simply. Angela nodded. Fareeha walked first to the kitchen, with Angela right behind her as all the times the same thing happened. Coffee? Tea? Want a drink? The answer was usually yes, and she always had Angela right behind her. The unusual thing about the whole deal was that Angela didn’t sit down at the table instantly. This time she was leaned against the counter, with her arms crossed over her chest. She didn’t think much of the body language though, she only minded because of the space issues. Angela was tall too in comparison to a lot of other people, her head was in the way of the cupboards and she was directly in front of the coffee maker. She didn’t ask her to stand aside. It felt like she would be asking too much of Angela. Just stepping aside was asking too much. It was irrational thinking, she knew that, she couldn’t help it though. 

“Did you have nightmares last night?” Angela asked. It threw her off how simply she asked it, how light her question was asked. ‘Hi, honey, I’m home from my third surgery of the day, did you dream about drowning in blood or anything while I was gone?’. Fareeha understood, realistically of course she understood, that despite telling Angela how graphic her nightmares could get she didn’t understand. She could compare it to her own nightmares, she could try to put herself in Fareeha’s boots, but she would never wake up having to throw up from the disgust she felt when the said nightmare had happened. They had been out, drinking a few drinks. It wasn’t planned that Angela would follow her home, and then come inside, and then have have a glass of water while Fareeha took another drink, the last drink of the night.. Fareeha insisted on Angela taking the bed, so when the chaos of waking up with her insides on fire settled down she was glad they had made those decisions. Sure, it might be drinks. But it sure didn’t help seeing the actual bloodbath in her mind as soon as she closed her eyes. Fareeha nodded, wondering if it was that obvious because of bags under her eyes or if she just look generally as if she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in about ten months. 

“You know, I can still refer you to someone who can help with that. With the nightmares. You could discuss options like therapy or medication.” Angela explained. Fareeha smiled, more out of the fact that she could almost hear Angela fighting her doctor voice, trying her hardest to stay in friend mode where she was just a friend who happened to be a medical prodigy. Nothing unusual.

“Have you thought anything about coming back to the meetings again? As I’ve told you, I don’t want to push it if you really don’t want to but, they seemed to have helped you before.” Angela asked, her voice soft without sounding scared or unsure if she should have brought it up at all. Fareeha stopped what she was doing for a second to look at Angela before going back to finishing the last of the prepping before turning on the coffee maker. She sighed, turning around and leaning against the counter too. They stood side by side. Fareeha  with her hands in her pockets staring into a wall of the kitchen, Angela with her arms still crossed over her chest staring at Fareeha. 

“I’ve— I’ve… no. The meetings, they… well, they haven’t exactly helped. At least not until you came around. I haven’t thought about going back when it’s clear that you’re the thing that is helping. I feel better when we talk, when we’re together. I obviously don’t have to go to the meetings to have that.” she answered, looking at Angela who met her with a smile. 

“I can’t be around all the time, Fareeha. I think that it would be good for you to get back into the habit of going for when I can’t help anymore.” Angela explained. Fareeha smiled softly, hoping that the same sharp pain of knowing that she didn’t have Angela, not really at least, was shining through in her eyes. How she prayed to every holy being that might be that ‘I can’t be around all the time’ wasn’t an actual reflection of want. Can’t and don’t want to is separate and she hold on to that hope with her fingernails. 

“How’s your mother?” It was a bad excuse to talk about something else, but it was an excuse that Fareeha was grateful that Angela had given her. 

“She works a lot. Maybe too much. If she didn’t she’d probably have forced me to those meetings by now.” 

“I doubt she would be forcing you. She’s stubborn, suppose that’s where you get it from. But you forget to credit her humbleness. The years have taken that away from you both. The years have taken a lot of things away from us all. I suppose she overworks to deal with that. And you, well…” Fareeha frowned. She didn’t ask. Angela’s face hardened in a way that scared her. It didn’t look like anger, it looked like disappointment, it looked like she meant business, it looked like  _ she _ was about to force her to the meetings. She looked away, suddenly so very aware of her eyes. How could she be so stupid? How could she have been high so many of the times they’d met over the past eight months and not once realized that Angela, a doctor, could probably see it miles away. Stupid, stupid, Fareeha Amari. 

“I worry, it think that is quite obvious.You don’t understand how much I worry, and I’m not quite sure how to show it without it feeling like I’m about become your doctor. I don’t want that for us. We were friends, good friends, and I believe that despite… well, everything really, that we can come back to that. I feel like we have done that to some extent, but this… I feel this need to distance myself because that’s what I have to as a doctor. I  _ want _ to be emotional with you. I don’t want to be a doctor with you, Fareeha. Can you understand that?” Fareeha’s mouth hung open and… the time was… not right. It was actually pretty awful if she was in the slightest wrong about anything. She took the risk. She grazed Angela’s soft cheek, looking from her eyes to her lips back to her eyes before leaning in (leaning down) and kissing her. Angela’s lips were softer than they looked and Fareeha had to break away quicker than she thought and hoped to try to get her breath back the exact same second Angela pushed her off softly. It was overwhelming. She swallowed. She fucked up. She fucked up. She  **_FUCKED_ ** up. Fareeha Amari, professional fuck-up. 

“I…” Angela begun.

“I’m sorry, I must have misread the whole thing. I’m so sorry.” Fareeha spoke quickly, though almost whispering. The loud coffee maker sounding like a construction site in contrast to the quiet between them. A second, two seconds, three seconds passed. 

“I— no, you didn’t exactly misread the ‘whole thing’. It’s just… this wasn’t about my feelings for you, or our feelings for each other for that matter. I was… well, I was referring to the drugs that you think I don’t know about, but I figured out about three months ago and just didn’t know how to bring up without making things worse for you. The daytime drinking I didn’t know about until now though, and I wish I had. I would’ve done something earlier.” Angela walked away. Sat down at the table, her face buried in her hands. Fareeha followed her movements, not sure what to feel anymore. She turned of the coffee maker, she couldn’t stand the noise anymore. She filled the cups and brought them to the table. Placed them down. Brought cream from the fridge. Sat down opposite Angela. 

“If you’re waiting for an explanation I don’t have one. I have lies, so many lies. But no real explanation anymore. Now I’m just…” She closed her eyes hard, she wasn’t going to cry. She looked back up, surprised by the blue eyes looking back at her. “I’m stuck.  I— I— I’m stuck in this… pit that I’ve dug myself into and I— I… so many things are happening down here that I know are bad signs and I just… don’t care. I don’t care anymore, to the point that sometimes I think that I might actually have done something really bad, that I’ve mixed the… the pills, badly. Or that I’ve taken too many. And I just don’t care. I don’t have it in me anymore.” 

“Yes, you do!” Angela’s voice was harsh. Not loud, she wasn’t shouting, which Fareeha was oddly grateful for. But it was harsh in a way that she had never heard it be before. “You’re Fareeha Amari. You have been through so much, things you shouldn’t have had to deal with, especially not when you’re still so young. But they happened, and you pulled through, I saw it happening first hand. You’ve changed, I’ve changed. But you’re still Fareeha Amari. The same Fareeha Amari who I know for a fact went through basic training as the best recruit that officer has seen. Just like I’m the same Angela Ziegler who would followed you to the end of the world if it meant that it brightened that day of your life because god knows that somebody had to do it. I  _ will not _ accept that you’re giving up on yourself. Because  _ I _ will not give up on you. Not this time.”


	3. you're so fucking special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years since chapter one. Been together for two years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, guess who's back, back again, the leaver is back, tell a friend. as i've made clear i'm not giving up on the story but y'all, i have depression. that's also why this is very short and why i feel like i should clarify that while this is mainly a fareeha pov pharmercy fic, it's without an actual plot except her mental health issues and their relationship and that's why this can feel like a meaningless chapter but it isn't to me this is about fareeha's recovery but my own recovery is... well, not happening so really can't put more into this chapter. i'm sorry. it's only two more chapters so maybe stick around anyway :)
> 
> also, i made a playlist when i started writing this thing that i thought i'd share. the first four songs (in order with the chapters) are where i grabbed the chapter titles from so maybe guess what the two next chapters are gonna be called. https://playmoss.com/en/islayedbuffy/playlist/an-ounce-of-peace-is-all-i-want

To say that Angela’s words were still echoing in her head, even some two years after them being said would be an outright lie. But to say that Angela’s words made themselves known in their everyday life still, some two years after them being said, wouldn’t be a lie whatsoever. They made themselves known in the small things. In the not drinking any alcohol around her. In the comfort of  the words ‘you’re okay, I’m here. It was just a dream’ when she would wake up on fire, when she would wake up freezing, when she would just jolt up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. In the still being by her side despite her relapses, despite trying to push Angela away when she was at her worst (and not at her worst), despite the mess she was, a mess named Fareeha Amari.

“Angela, please,” Fareeha grabbed her by the shoulders from behind and guided her from where she stood at the kitchen counter to the closest chair by the table, “let her do her thing. Take the day off.” Fareeha took the two, three steps back and leaned against the counter, though leaving some distance from her mother so she wouldn’t hog the space. 

“I suppose she never cooks then, Angela?” Ana asked Angela, turning to smile at her for a second before turning back to the food. 

“Well,” Angela began, glancing at Fareeha. “I wouldn’t say never, but it would be a nice change to be surprised with the dinner already being ready.” Fareeha huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Look, I don’t cook very often because when I do we decide that take out is a better option. I’m a terrible cook, you both know this.” She shook her head, her mother and her girlfriend laughing at her, exchanging glances. 

“Then you need to practice. Wash your hands.” Ana told her. Fareeha turned around and washed her hands in the sink. From behind she could feel Angela’s arms embrace her and her trying to rest her head on her shoulder though that not completely working seeing as how Fareeha was somewhat taller. 

“If it’s okay with the two of you, I think I could use a shower.” Angela told them, more than asked them. Fareeha and Ana hummed their agreements in unison. A small smile sticking to Fareeha’s lips when Angela left them with a peck on her cheek. 

“Here, cut the onions. Dice. Not rings, not half-moons.” Ana told Fareeha in Arabic, who began right after she was told what to do. They spoke only Arabic when they were alone together. They stood in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being the mellow, quiet music and the sputtering of the stew. The silence between them was first broken when a song that Fareeha liked as a child began playing. 

“Do you remember when you used to force me to sing this to you? I couldn’t get you to sleep unless I sang it for weeks,  _ months  _ even. Every night.” Ana asked. Fareeha met her mother’s eyes, both of them grinning. 

“Yes, I do. I must have been unbearable. I got your stubbornness.” Fareeha nodded.

“That is true. My stubbornness. Your fathers taste in music.” The laughing and basking in actual good memories died out. Mentions of her father always resulted in a tense atmosphere where neither knew how to act. There was never any resentment for him. They stilled talked, and her parents divorce was, as she understood it, as mutual and systematic as a divorce could be. Part of her believed they still loved each other in some way. Just, not enough. Just, not in the right way. 

“He called me yesterday to wish me happy birthday.” 

“Good. That’s good.”

“He asked about you.”

“Oh? Why?”

“He was just wondering how you are. He said he has been trying to reach you, without luck. Are you ignoring him?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Alright. Well, maybe call him back when you can?” Fareeha asked. Ana hummed. That was the end of her father as a topic. Fareeha wouldn’t mention it again, and Ana wouldn’t call him back. It wasn’t the first time the topic of her father had been handled that way. 

“How are you and Angela?” Ana asked, a smile back on her lips.

“Good. We’re good. We’re… great, actually.” Fareeha told her mother, her own smile being upgraded to a full grin. They were great. She was unsure if the question was actually how they were together, if her mother felt like it was a good continuation to ask about their relationship, or if it was about them as people. Instead of only asking her. If one is bad the other feels it. Fareeha would know. Angela didn’t talk about it but Fareeha noticed it. She noticed the way her relapses, her bad days, her nightmares, affected Angela. She noticed when Angela had woken up of nightmares of her own, she noticed she hadn’t fallen asleep to begin with. Fareeha hadn’t told her that she knew about the prozac that she had neglected to tell her about. It angered her. Not because she felt like Angela couldn’t trust her (which it did), but because she understood that the reason she hadn’t told her about it was because she didn’t want to worry her. But they were great. Their relationship was thriving on their mutual grief of the lives they had lost in the line of duty, in the line of life.. 

“And how are  _ you _ ?” 

“I—“ am drowning, am waking up thinking I’m going to die because I can’t breathe, am considering that maybe at the end of day I do wish that I did just die one night, am shouting at nothing and even the people who know don't seem to notice how close I am to that edge, “I’m good.” she nodded. She put the knife down gently when Ana put her, wet, hand on her cheek lightly and turned Fareeha’s face towards her own. 

“How are you?” she asked again, her voice quieter. Fareeha felt her lip tremble and she bit down on it.  Treacherous  lip tremble giving her away. The music filling the room felt out of place. It was happy, and they both knew she wasn’t, personally, in her heart, happy. 

“I— There are a lot of things you don’t know. That I’ve never told you. But I—” Fareeha shook her head. “I can’t. Not yet.” Ana offered a sad smile and nodded. This wasn’t the time and place to tell. This wasn’t the time and place for Ana to ask more either. But they both knew it was there to be talked about when it was the right time and place. When she had healed enough that her passed didn’t still linger ominously calling to her to just… give up. To drink, to swallow pills, to lose track of time as she stared at the ceiling. 

Her mother hugged her tightly and she hugged back. They stood like that for a couple of seconds before they could hear Angela’s wet feet approaching the kitchen, kissing Fareeha lightly on the cheek again before filling a glass of water and drinking it. 

“What are we talking about?” Angela asked, looking from Fareeha to Ana. 


	4. want you to hold me down forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh being young and in love, planning a five year anniversary and asking the other to marry you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: suicidal thoughts.

“So, aside from the nightmares and urge to self-harm, how would you say you’ve been in general on a day to day basis? Would you say you’ve been doing better or worse on average?” the therapist asked. Fareeha took a deep breath, thinking about her answer. How  _ had _ she been? Great? Horrible? Felt like she was drowning whilst simultaneously never been happier? She had been seeing Miss Hansen for  _ years _ , and yet the out of all the questions she had asked over that period of time, the constant one of how she had been doing was always the hardest. 

“My head has been… calm in a sense, despite… well, all that. Which is very odd because I feel like it’s only calm because it doesn’t know how to deal with that. Deal with… everything.” She answered, their eye contact constant for once. Miss Hansen offered a smile, though Fareeha never was quite sure how genuine her smiles were. They always looked the same to her.

“Could you elaborate ‘everything’?” 

“I— Everything is… everything. I mean, I— We are very happy.  _ Angela and I _ are very happy. But I— These thoughts, you know the ones I talked about before,” Miss Hansen nodded, “they keep just… coming out of nowhere. It’s distracting. So, generally. I’m actually quite good as opposed to a lot of other times but, not as good as I could be.” Because they had been  _ very _ good. She had always thought, and she guessed for good reasons too, that once you’ve been together for long enough love looks a whole lot different from puppy love. That was the whole point in differentiating puppy love from “real” love. And she wouldn’t say that they loved each other with the same intensity always, it was the same love but… on speed. She had been thrown into at least a month of something intense resembling something she would attach to (horny) teenagers not adults in a five year old relationship. Not that she minded. The  _ intensity _ wasn’t coming out of nowhere, her intrusive thoughts were. She supposed that was their speciality. 

“I— my thoughts get worse… or maybe not worse, but they get more aggressive when we’ve had a fight. I know it’s not good that I rely so much on her to pick me back up. I hate that I really don’t know what I’d do without her. I love the expression. That you don’t want to find out. But not actually not knowing what I’d do without her.” 

“It’s not healthy.” she offered Miss Hansen a smile. 

“No. Why do you feel like you wouldn’t know what to do without her?” Fareeha frowned. The question was… off. It was unusual for her to ask such obvious questions. She knew Fareeha history at this point. Why wouldn’t she know what to do without Angela? ‘Because I would’ve killed myself by now if it weren’t for her. If not intentionally the addictions would’ve done it for me’ she thought. 

“Aside from,” Fareeha sighed, her breathe shaky, “Unconditionally being there for me even when I know she would’ve judge other people. Aside from talking me down the ledge,  _ literally _ . Aside from so many things. I— I love her so much. And I don’t if I could handle losing her.”

“I understand. Sadly, we’re out of time for today. I’ll see you on monday where we can talk about this further if you want to.” Fareeha nodded. The words she had uttered still floating in her head. Not because they were profound, they were far from it. But the fact that they were the least profound, most average daily feelings and thoughts she could utter. And she did not see herself not loving Angela. She had loved her the majority of her life, and if she couldn’t do that for the rest of it, what was the point?   
  


* * *

 

”Hello.” Fareeha greeted, loud enough for Angela to be able to hear it wherever she was in the apartment, as she walked through the door. She walked into a wall if smells, the smell of food, the smell of familiar spices from her childhood. She frowned. It was completely possible that her mother had decided to come over and cook for them, but felt unlikely that she would without giving Fareeha a call before. Unless, she had started to feel comfortable enough with Angela outside of work that she didn’t feel the need to. 

”Hallo.” Angela stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. Her smile warm and welcoming, melting away every thought and worry from her appointment. 

”Is my mother here?” Fareeha asked. 

”No? Should she?” 

”She’s welcome but it was just… the smell. Did she give you a recipe?”

”She gave  _ you _ a recipe. That you never used.”

” _ Oh _ .” Fareeha dragged. It made sense. Not that her mother wanting to spend time with her didn’t make sense, it just, tragically, made more sense that she had given her the recipe. 

They stood in their places, looking at each other for a second or two before Fareeha dropped her dufflebag to the ground and walked closer to Angela, where they kissed and Fareeha broke away to bury her face in Angela’s neck. 

“I love you.” She whispered. Angela’s hug got tighter. 

“I love you too.”  Angela whispered back. Something on the stove was boiling over and both of them instantly, however reluctantly, turned their attention to it. Angela turned down the heat while Fareeha stood behind her, bodies close as she reached over her to grab a glass from the cupboard. She stepped away to the sink, filled the glass, and watched Angela work. Seeing her cook was as close to perfect art as Fareeha could recall. 

“You’re staring.” Angela pointed out, smiling, while still paying attention to the things on the stove. Fareeha laughed, knowing that she hadn’t even looked at her, she just knew it.

“Do you want me to stop?” Angela glanced at her.

“You could be a little more useful. I bought a watermelon, how about you cut some up so it’s done for dessert.” 

“We have dessert?” 

“If you cut the watermelon, we do.”

“See, watermelon is fruit. Fruit is not dessert. Unless it’s served together with something that is substantially less healthy. Like strawberries and cream. Strawberries and ice cream. Strawb—” 

“Are you craving strawberries?” Angela laughed, cutting Fareeha off.

“Possibly.” 

“Well, whatever it is, cut up some watermelon and we’ll have that after dinner as a not-a-real-dessert dessert. Okay?” Fareeha put the glass in the sink. 

“Oh, I almost forgot. How’s your Thursday?” Angela asked. 

“As long as there’s no emergency, I can leave early.” 

“You don’t have to leave early, Fareeha. There’s no hurry. I just need to know if we have to reschedule and call the hotel.” 

“I know.” Fareeha nodded. They had been planning the five year anniversary get away for some time. It was hard to do anything without planning it for a month in advance. It was hard to plan anything at all. If you did it in advance you risked an emergency or rescheduling screwing with the plans. If you didn’t plan in a long time in advance you risked your schedule being full already. The only thing that relieved the situation was knowing that if an emergency did happen, they were both on call. 

“You have to remember to give Jason the key.” Fareeha added to the conversation of preparations. Jason, who was practically Angela’s errand boy at this point, had agreed on taking care of Mila, the four year old  Amstaff they had adopted. If possible, he could even water their plants. 

“He already has it.” 

* * *

 

She didn’t remember how she had gotten to their bed. She didn’t remember anything that had happened from dinner to the point of falling asleep. Yet another thing to be worried about, another thing that had to be fixed. Fareeha wished that for once, if it didn't have to be either of their alarms, it would be the natural sunshine that woke her up. It had done so when she was a kid and anytime she was back in Egypt. Instead it was the traffic outside with it its honking and it's engines that woke her up. 

She turned around to see if Angela was awake, being met with a yet asleep Angela. She looked at the clock on her night stand. 9.17. Anytime after 8.30 made her antsy. She had spent so much time sleeping all day that whenever she slept longer now it made it feel as if she was gonna become bad again or she'd lose the rest of the day. The antsy part of her had to fight with the calming beauty in front of her though. And the calming beauty put up a real fight. 

She grazed Angela's face lightly so to not wake her up. Tracing the outlines of her jaw. 

“I love you so much.” Fareeha whispered, not being able to just feel it. It was too big, too many emotions for her body to contain without busting open. She loved Angela with every cell of her body. 

Deep in thought, staring at the love of her life's far, Angela's alarm took her by surprise. The same shiver going through her body as when they would watch horror films and she knew something was going to jump out, but the body still reacted without her being actually scared. 

Angela stirred, rolling over to cancel the alarm. Fareeha watched her run her eyes and yawn before look at Fareeha. They smiled at each other. 

“Good morning.”

“Have you been awake for long?”

Fareeha shook her head. Angela yawned a second time before giving Fareeha a morning kiss. 

“You're beautiful.” Fareeha spoke softly, almost a whisper. 

“I just woke up.” Angela laughed. 

“I know. It's amazing. The most stunning woman, and she just woke up looking stunning as always.” Fareeha laughed. They continued laughing, only letting it die out as they kissed. 

It was happening again. The emotions were too big, too much, too many, and if she could she would scream because she couldn't contain them anymore. She could cry. She was crying. She didn't realize so until Angela dried her tears. 

“What's wrong?” Angela frowned.

“Oh, I— I didn't… I just love you that's all.” 

“You're crying because you love me?” Fareeha nodded. 

“I'm not sure I understand.” Angela was smiling. And it was so beautiful. But Fareeha could tell it was more a mask to cover up the fact that she was getting exponentially more worried about where the situation was going. Was Fareeha gonna tell her she wants to die again? She wasn’t. Because she didn’t. Though, the situation had arised before and Fareeha knew what the look and the smile meant. 

“I think that before, when I was still doing… well, you know. I was coping. Badly so, but I was coping with all the bad feelings I was feelings because of the circumstances I had had throughout life and that I’d put myself in. But now, I have no mechanism to cope with all of these massive, loud,  _ good _ feelings I have. That are primarily because of you and I— I just… I don't even think marrying you would be good enough but—” Fareeha stopped herself. Taking a deep breath. She meant it. It wouldn’t be enough, but— “it would be a good place to begin. If you’d want to.” She whispered. 

They stared at each other. A few seconds passed until Fareeha saw Angela eyes get teary. If she was being honest she couldn’t tell if that was a good sign or not. People cried for all kinds of different reasons. Some of them good, now was hopefully one of those times. Some of them bad, now was hopefully  _ not _ one of those times. 

“Are you asking me to marry you?” Angela asked. Fareeha nodded. 

“Okay.” Angela nodded. Fareeha was in disbelief. Neither had really thought anything of it through, though it didn’t even really need thinking through. It was the obvious, logical, perfect decision. Could it end up in hurt and sadness and depressing divorce? Wasn’t that a risk any marriage faced regardless how much you thought it through? 

“So, I’m guessing you’re not feeling up to making any breakfast worthy of champions and neither do I. Shall we go to a café instead, my beloved  _ fiancé _ ?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, it comes to an end. next, the epilogue. (if we're lucky it should be out before september ends)


	5. back's up against the wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a special kind of terror

As much as she wanted to say that ‘healthy’ was a matter of perspective, she knew it really wasn’t. With this in mind she was thankful that she could call herself healthy. She was thankful that even through the feeling of absolute dread and horror and “I’m going to fuck this up”, in ways that were even worse than she had felt on any mission, she knew that at the end of the day it was highly unlikely that they would cause a relapse. And even if they did cause a particularly bad day that even scared Angela, that it wasn’t the end of the world. She knew how to get back to where she was. 

Did that mean that Fareeah wasn’t shaking uncontrollably as Jack drove as fast as he could, with Ana in the back and her in the passenger seat, to the hospital where Angela was in labor? No. She was shaking and it was remind her of the day they had met again when she couldn’t tell if she was shaking because of the drugs or because she was nervous. She knew why she was shaking now though. It wasn’t because she was nervous, it was because she was  _ terrified _ . 

“ Izayyik ?” Ana asked. Fareeha guessed that somehow her mother sensed it, or she figured it out because of the shaking and the leg bumping. Or it was just because she knew. She was a mother. She knew. 

“I’m not the one giving birth. I’ll live.” She answered, glancing over at Jack who looked annoyingly calm. Why was he so calm? He wasn’t supposed to be calm. He was suppose to drive fast and be stressed and drive faster and get them there as soon as possible. She didn’t tell him that, she knew that if she opened her mouth more it might come out as yelling. She let him drive at the speed limit, looking like he had all the time in the world, just on his way home on any regular day of his life. Because she knew that eventually they’d reach the hospital, and eventually they did.  

Jack dropped them off at the front door and let them go in as he continued on to find a spot to park the car at. Fareeha didn’t have time to wait and see if her mother was falling behind her own fast steps. 

“Hello, I’m— I’m here to see Angela Ziegler. She’s in labor.” She told the omnic at the front desk. 

“Of course. State your name and relation, please.” 

“Fareeha Amari, I’m her wife.” 

“Okay, Mrs. Amari, your wife is in room 4011. It’s on the fourth floor. Take the elevator and when you exit on the fourth floor take a left. After the glass door you take another left and you should find the room at the end of the corridor.” The omnic explained to her. She heard her mother thank them as she herself was in too much of a hurry. She knew that there were probably hours left until their child was actually going to see the light of day. Her stress was purely fueled by the fact that she couldn’t stand the idea that Angela was there alone, in pain alone, when Angela had never done the same and never would. 

She pressed the elevator button several times. Tapping her fingers against her legs as they waited for the door to open. 

“Have you found a name yet?” Ana found a moment in the empty elevator. Fareeha shook her head. 

“You will find it. Sometimes you have to see the child to see their name. Don’t you worry.”

“I’m not worried.” Fareeha sighed. 

“Alright, goo—“

“I’m terrified, mom.” Fareeha whispered just as the doors opened, interrupting her mother. 

“I know.” 

They took the left and then the other left after the glass door. The hallway was long and scattered with nurses, bleeps and blops, and pregnant people in labor walking around. Busy night she supposed. Or perhaps every night was busy. 

“Can I help you?” A nurse asked.

“Uh— Angela Ziegler. The front desk said she’s in 4011.” 

“Are you the wife?” the nurse asked, a smile across their face. She nodded. 

“Okay, you can just follow me.” They followed. Passing other rooms. At the end she started looking at the numbers above the doors. 4008, 4009, 4010, and finally, 4011. The nurse held opened the door for her.

“I’ll be out here if you need me.” her mother told her right as she was about to go into the room. Fareeha smiled at her. 

Angela was standing up, her upper body bent over the bed and leaning against her arms. Face down towards the bed and breathing heavy. Part of her was angry that she hadn’t just put up a fight and said that she should carry, part of her was so very thankful she hadn’t. 

”Hey.” Fareeha greeted as she walked up to the bed, leaning her upper body on it beside Angela.

“I’m sorry I took so long.” she almost whispered. The tucked some of Angela’s hair behind her ear, though it was futile. Angela’s hair always had a mind of its. Fareeha has never realized that Angela put a lot of effort and time into it being as straight as it was, not understanding why she didn’t just immediately always resort to putting it up. 

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll be here a while.” Angela didn’t look up at Fareeha as she spoke.

“Your midwife should be here to check up on you very soon. If you need anything just ask the reception.” The nurse said before leaving the room. They thanked the nurse in unison. 

Angela straightened her arms before standing up straight. Fareeha followed her movements. 

“So, are you regretting being insistent on carrying or are you having the time of your life?” Fareeha joked, sitting down on the bed. 

“Neither.” Angela huffed. 

Just as Angela was about to sit down beside her, her face cramped up in a pained expression and she was back leaning down on the bed. Fareeha quickly squaded down beside her rubbing her back.

“This  _ is  _ going to be a long night.” she mumbled her breathe.

* * *

 

If possible, she was even more terrified than before when she finally got to hold the tiny human being they had put to the world. That it was an actual  _ human _ was beyond her, but it didn’t keep her from crying when she looked at her. When she looked at their daughter. The 7.5 pounds and 18 inches of baby was their  _ daughter. _

Fareeha was sitting quietly in a chair beside Angela’s bed, looking at the sleeping baby. Angela was sleeping too.

“We got to give you a name at some point, don’t we? What kind of start to life is it to not have a name? Not a bad one when I come to think about it. Your mom joked that we should name you Alberta and I’m not too sure she wasn’t being at least a little bit serious about it. I vetoed that one though, hope you appreciate it.” Fareeha nothing more than whispered to the child. 

“Are you already trying to be the cool parent?” she heard Angela say, her voice raspy and tired. Fareeha looked up. 

“You bet.” she nodded. “Have to get a head start while I can.” 

“Well, has your head start involved finding a name?” 

“It has. Hopefully, your veto will go unused for it”   
  


* * *

 

The door to the dimly lit hospital room opened, the light from the corridor made that very obvious. Through it walked Ana and Jack. They moved slowly, as if not to stir a sleeping lion. While Ana continued to Angela’s bed Jack stayed behind by the door he closed after them. Fareeha stared at him, only hearing that Ana and Angela were talking but not registering what about. 

“Mama.” Fareeha stood up, getting her mother's attention. The shorter woman met her halfway through the small room, grazed Fareeha’s cheek before being given the opportunity to hold the child. As soon as Fareeha’s arms were free she walked over to Jack and without saying anything she hugged him. A second passed before he hugged her back. 

“Thank you."

“Don’t mention it.”

“No,” she leaned back, grabbing his shoulders, “Thank you.” They smiled at each other. As she stepped away he walked over to Angela’s bed and Fareeha sat back down again.

“Have you found it yet?” Ana asked, looking from her granddaughter to her daughter. Fareeha and Angela looked at each other. 

“Nour. Her name is Nour Ingrid Amari Ziegler.” Ana walked over with the newborn to Fareeha again. Fareeha stood up so she could sit down. Three generations of Amari right beside each other. As the thought struck her she finally understood. At least she understood completely with every emotion for the first time, why her mother's previous disapproval of her career choices in life wasn’t just because she knew the horrors of war. It was simply because she was her daughter. You keep your child away from that, no matter the consequences. And by god, if that wasn’t exactly what Fareeha was going to do, she would disappoint every past, present, and future Fareeha Amari there was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first and foremost: thank you for reading, i hope you liked it and will stick around for whatever shenanigans i get up to next (like finishing my widowtracer fic)
> 
> this was only suppose to be a oneshot channeling everything bad i was feeling at the time. fareeha has through this very short fic become someone very important to me. i put her in situations i have thankfully never had to deal with, but the feeling of drowning and all that is the same. i was really bad when i started writing but got better, got bad again, and got good again, and i will get bad again eventually and all i can pray for is that if i get too bad i will have the strength of getting help like i forced fareeha to do.
> 
> if you're in the same boat as i am and/or fareeha was in the beginning of this, please seek help. i know i should, and it's a pain not to. but you are incredibly beautiful and loved. trust me. 
> 
> thank you for reading.
> 
> again, thank you. now, i will return to my widowtracer fic that i have been working on but not publishing any. maybe read that.


End file.
